A mother's arms are made of tenderness and children sleep soundly in them. ~Victor Hugo
Being a mother means always having the energy, always having the open arms and the gently touch, it means holding hands if that's all you can do.
I know that the time for skipping and hand-holding is dwindling. Since Lydia got this new hair cut she is feeling even more grown up, and Rooster refuses to admit he is 3, he will yell "NO I'M FOUR!" He says he doesn't need help doing anything. Even Layla has her moments of fierce Independence. Sure, I have made the effort to teach them independence, and that they are capable "can do kids" ... but it breaks my heart.
So, even more than I already have, I vow to cling to the moments of holding hands, and carrying Rooster up to his bed at night. I will speak softly and remind them that no matter how big they get, they are always my babies. I will foster independence by re-affirming security in my love and arms... I will be all I can for them ... and will continue forever.